A Lie for a Lie (All In, #1)(21)

He smirks. “What can I say? We both like you.”

I laugh and roll my eyes. “You’re incorrigible. Now go, so I can make an attempt at being productive.”

RJ holds up a finger. “Just one more kiss to tide me over?”

“Just one.”

He leans in, and I put my hand on his chest, allowing only a couple of sweeps of tongue before I step back. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He walks backward to his truck, and I stand in the doorway, staying there until the taillights disappear down the driveway.

I’m probably going to regret not staying at his place tonight, but I think I should at least try to resist him. Besides, this will inevitably heighten the very present chemistry between us. Theoretically, it should. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow if I’m right.





CHAPTER 8

SCAREDY-CAT





Lainey


I can list the things I like about my cabin on one finger: not being in it.

I spend a good part of the evening trying to work on my thesis. Trying being the operative word. Mostly, all I can think about is kissing RJ and the feel of his erection pressing against my stomach through all the barriers of fabric.

While I have spent some time on the water, it hasn’t been studying the animals in it. So I review some of my preliminary research and manage to make notes on the correlations I intend to focus on when I actually put some time and energy into the real reason I’m here. Which is not making out with RJ.

But he’s so good at it.

It makes me wonder how many other women have had the opportunity to experience his kissing skills. It also makes me wonder what else he’s good at. Probably everything, I decide. He seems to know exactly what he’s doing. While I have a master’s in sex therapy, most of my knowledge is theory and text based.

And now I’m thinking about sex for what seems like the millionth time since I fell into RJ’s lap on the plane a few days ago. And I’m thinking about how uncomfortable this bed is in comparison to the one in his spare room. Right next to his bedroom. Where he’s probably sleeping right now. Unlike me.

Instead, I’m lying on a lumpy mattress, staring at the ceiling, freezing under a pile of musty-smelling blankets, wishing I’d taken him up on his offer.

I know without an ounce of doubt that I would not be sleeping in the room beside his if I went back to his place. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with people being attracted to each other. In theory, it’s a natural human reaction. But I have never been this wildly attracted to anyone before in my life, and I worry that my lack of restraint may be a problem.

I roll over onto my stomach and pull one of the dank pillows over my head, close my eyes, and try to shut my brain off. It’s pointless, though. I’m wide awake. It’s only four o’clock in the morning, but I give up on trying to sleep.

I make myself a coffee, toast a bagel and slather it in cream cheese, and head outside with a pair of binoculars. While we were in town yesterday I was able to borrow a couple of books on my e-reader, and I picked up a million brochures so I’ll have some reading for comparative data analysis.

I get lost in my reading and watching for dolphins and whales on the water for the next few hours. I would probably spend the entire day sitting outside, despite it being cold and my fingers being mostly numb, just to avoid the cabin.

Eventually I need to use the bathroom, and I could definitely use a fresh pot of coffee, since my eyeballs feel a lot like eggs covered in sand when I blink. The phone rings just as I’m finishing up in the bathroom. I don’t even bother to wash my hands. Instead, I rush out with my pants still half-down and answer the call before the phone stops ringing.

“Hello!” I shout and then cringe because I’m too loud.

“Lainey?”

My excitement deflates like a sad balloon, but I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “Oh, hi, Mom.”

“Thank God you answered. I was getting worried. I emailed four times already this morning, and I’ve been calling for the past two hours.”

“Oh, sorry, I was outside and I couldn’t hear the phone, and cell service really isn’t reliable here. Is everything okay?”

“Oh, oh yes. Everything is fine. I was just worried about you since you didn’t call yesterday. I read an article about bear attacks up there in Alaska. Did you know you can’t keep your garbage outside because of the bears? And did you know that brown bears are related to grizzlies? They’ll come sniffing around if you leave any food out. You have bear spray, don’t you? I should have insisted you take shooting lessons over archery when you were a teenager.”

“I know all about the garbage, Mom, and you know how I feel about guns.” I shudder at the thought of ever having to hold one.

“I know, I know. But what about the bear spray? Do you at least have that?”

“I do.”

“Okay. Well, that’s good. How are things going? You know it’s all right if you get homesick and decide to come back early. Your ticket is open ended, so you can fly home anytime.”

“I’m actually having a great time.”

“Oh. Well . . . that’s good. You’re managing the anxiety okay, then? You have all your visualization techniques for when things get stressful?”